


Sterile Technique

by Vixen_Argentum



Series: Solve et Coagula [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Cupping, Inappropriate Use of Laboratory Equipment, M/M, Oral Sex, fireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen_Argentum/pseuds/Vixen_Argentum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was times like these that Mayuri called him out on what he really was...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sterile Technique

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a series on the elements. (Fire, water, air, earth, spirit)
> 
> I wanted to write some little known kinks/lesser frequency kinks because you know these guys would totally get into obscure and possibly dangerous scenarios.
> 
> And with a Fanfiction 100, there's plenty of other prompts for something more normal.
> 
> Prompt: 052.Fire.  
>  **Warning: Fireplay! In particular fire cupping and streaking. Oral. Inappropriate use of laboratory equipment.**
> 
> ***Don’t do this at home unless you know what you’re doing! This fic is NOT a paragon of safety or proper technique! Use correctly made batons—not the materials you see here!***

Urahara reached across Mayuri’s body, twisting the lever on the natural gas nozzle.  The rubber hose of the Bunsen burner fit snugly against the cone, and he could hear the hiss of gas as it moved through the tube, entering the barrel.   With a steady hand, he pinched the wires of the steel fire-starter in his palm, sparks dripping from the _scritch-a scritch-a_ of the two rough surfaces scraping against each other.

Starting from the base of the barrel, he slowly raised the firestarter up to the top.   At about two inches from the barrel’s end, the flame roared to life, flickering, sputtering.  He adjusted the barrel, cutting down the gas, pruning the fire to something controlled, even-edged like a pinpoint.

“Aha!  Let’s try this, shall we?” 

Urahara passed the test tube over the burner, rolling it between his fingers to even out the heat.  The tight gas-fed flame twitched.  It flickered from blue to orange, then back to blue again as the precipitate on the rim of the glassware burned off.  Urahara narrowed his eyes as he studied the white smoke that rose from the mouth, first as a cloud, then a wisp, and finally to nothing. 

“Never skimp on sterile technique.  But then again, I probably don’t have to tell _you_ that, now do I?” Urahara purred.

“Sterile technique, my foot,” Mayuri grumbled and reached for the test tube.

Urahara drew it back, clucking his tongue.  “Patience, patience.  I’ll just make you wait until later,” he said playfully.  He placed it into the rack on the table.

In his other hand, Urahara held a long cotton swab.   He dipped it into the alcohol-filled Petri dish that was balanced in the hollow of Mayuri’s lower ribcage. 

“Hmmm…”

 Urahara brushed the alcohol over Mayuri’s lips.  He blew on them slightly, his eyes watering slightly as the evaporating gas came up into his eyes.  He crunched the firestarter just slightly above Mayuri’s mouth.  He was too timid at first, but with the second scrape, a spark fell, the alcohol igniting with a bright _flash_.  Quickly, Urahara swept his thumb, hard pressed over the skin, extinguishing the flames.  The skin was flushed in its wake, an invitation.  

Urahara swept down to kiss his lips.  They were still fire-warm, smooth, like black suede scorched by the sun.  He tangled with Mayuri’s tongue, tasting the bitter isopropyl alcohol that had dripped between his lips when it was first brushed on.  Lightly, he nibbled on the lower lip, pulling back until it was released with a nearly inaudible pop, but Mayuri had thrust a hand through his hair, wrenching him back down into a second kiss. 

The jerky movement destabilized the Petri dish on Mayuri’s chest, causing the liquid to spill and dribble down his stomach.  

 “Be careful,” chided Urahara playfully.  “Don’t spill it too much.  If I can’t wipe it all up, you never know what kind of a surprise you might get.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Mayuri dryly.  “After all, it was your idea was to put it on me in the first place.  For being in charge of the largest scientific organization in the spirit world, you do not seem to prioritize the safety of your coworkers.”

Urahara raised an eyebrow at him.  “Well, technically it’s bad form to have sex with your coworkers in laboratory common areas too, but I don’t see you complaining about that.”  

He dropped a spark on Mayuri’s shoulder, who spaced out blissfully when he registered the speck of pain as it faded into nothing within seconds, savoring it. 

“I suppose I’ll have to turn myself in for that.”  Urahara joked. 

“I can see it now!”  Urahara waved his arm in a grandiose gesture.  “Urahara Kisuke, we charge you with two counts of disorderly conduct: one of conducting sexual relations with a subordinate squad member in a common area, and one of lighting him on fire while naked, without proper flame control procedures, or a supervising staff.” 

Urahara paused before slyly continuing  “Unless I have gotten your kinks wrong… and you actually want a supervising staff…”

“I hate you.”

_Shhh!_

Urahara put his index finger to Mayuri’s mouth and let it trail down.  He traced the finger down to the juncture of Mayuri’s collarbones, down the sternum, and down to the dish filled with alcohol.

“Hold still,” Urahara moved the dish to the hard counter beside him.  “Just a moment.”

With the dry end of the cotton swab, he mopped up the drips, leaving only a trace amount behind.  He ignited it quickly, erasing the flames with his free hand.  Mayuri arched his back at the sensation, his voice catching involuntarily.

Urahara dipped the swab back into the alcohol, pushing Mayuri’s legs apart, pinning one down to the table with an elbow.

“Any requests?  Would you like me to draw a star?  A rabbit?  How about an ‘I love Kisuke?’   That would be nice, don’t you think?”  Urahara teased.

“It’d be a cold day in hell,”  Mayuri growled.  His playmate merely laughed.

_A cold day in hell…_

“Hmmm, I’ve got it,” Urahara mused.  His gaze was serious as he drew four lines on the smooth inside of Mayuri’s inner thigh.  Two parallel, two more perpendicular to the first two that flared out the bottom and met at the top.

_天_  

_Heaven_

Mayuri’s eyes widened in recognition.   “I’m surprised that the world doesn’t see how twisted you are.”

Urahara looked at him sidelong, and flicked a spark to the part closest to Mayuri’s knee.  He followed the flame, extinguishing it with his tongue, licking closer, further down, finishing and sucking on the innermost part of his thigh.  Mayuri hardened all the way.

Urahara grabbed Mayuri’s length, squeezing, running his thumb against the underside.  He flicked the joint of his thumb across the top before stroking down to repeat the motion.  Mayuri breathed heavily, resolving not to make a sound.

 “Am I now?”  Said Urahara.  He moved his hand faster, adding a slight spin each time as he reached the head.

“The need to pair, to find another isn’t even unique to humans…”  His eyes were half lidded.  If Mayuri didn’t know any better, he’d say that Urahara looked smug…but that wasn’t correct.

It was a different kind of pride…

“And now for the grand finale,” Urahara said. 

He released Mayuri from his hands and rubbed them up his body instead, sliding them up over his chest.  Mayuri breathed in sharply as his nipples were dotted with the cold alcohol.  Urahara grabbed two test tubes off of the rack and he ran them over the flame of the burner that still blazed bright.  He fanned Mayuri’s chest until the shine of the alcohol was nearly gone before setting the vapor aflame, putting the test tubes over the flames right away.

The flame snuffed immediately, and the skin sucked up into the tube.  Urahara twisted them and the slightest of sounds escaped Mayuri’s mouth

Urahara kissed him, teasing him.  “How about more?”

He reached for a beaker, warming it over the burner.  Urahara swept a small circle right above Mayuri’s navel and lit it, and placed the glass over it.  Mayuri’s breathing quickened as it pulled in his skin upward in a trick of physics.  Hot air rises and expands…while cold air contracts.

Urahara licked the skin around the barrier of the glass, using his own lips to provide new suction.  He pulled on the flask gently before releasing it from the skin, breaking the seal with his tongue.  Mayuri gasped Urahara traced the resultant ring with his mouth.    He bucked his hips up, but Urahara pinned him down harder to the table, moving his attention further down…

Urahara brushed his lips along the base of his cock.  He let his lower lip roll down slightly, rubbing the dampness against Mayuri’s skin as he moved back up to the tip.  With his tongue, he flicked the ridge, savoring the salty fluid that started to well above it.  He plunged the full length into his mouth.  Mayuri moaned audibly as he felt the warm, wet velvety texture changes slip over the head of his cock.  He slid against the roughness of the hard palate, the accommodating and soft ridges further back, and finally skin culminating in something smoother. 

_Am I really so twisted?_   Urahara thought.  He sucked harder, swirling his tongue. 

He studied Mayuri’s face, his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, completely enrapt.  It was so rare that he saw him without the paint, but the flame retardant properties of it would have made tonight impossible.  He just enjoyed the deep color, glistening with sweat that no one ever saw, except for him.

_To wish to pair…_

Urahara scraped his nails across Mayuri’s inner thighs, and he found his face framed by them like a vice.  Urahara gently handled Mayuri’s balls, grasping them, rolling them slightly in his hand.  He pressed a knuckle of the other hand into the patch of skin underneath, harder, harder.

Mayuri  ran his fingers though Urahara’s hair.  “Faster,” he whispered.  “Now.”  He pulled a fist full of the blond locks roughly.

Urahara reached up for the test tubes that were still fastened to Mayuri’s skin and twisted them.  His lover called out at the two different vacuum sensations, each dueling for his attention, but neither able to win.  Urahara quickened his pace, the tension in Mayuri’s hips easily giving away how close he was.  With a deft motion, Urahara broke the seal on the test tubes.  He swore he could listen to the muffled sound of shock that Mayuri made over and over, a noise somewhere between an open vowel and the most guttural of sounds. 

Urahara rolled the glass cylinders between his fingertips once more—they were only a little smaller in diameter than his little finger and still warm from the fire.  He shoved one into Mayuri’s mouth and withdrew it, and deftly slid it into Mayuri’s ass, pressing upward as it slid in.

Mayuri came steadily into Urahara’s mouth, his body wracked with the myotonia of pleasure, calling out an undecipherable orgasmic tongue.  Urahara swallowed it all, licking the corners of his lips to catch anything he had missed.  Mayuri laid back again, somewhat dazed and trying to catch his breath, like he had seen some great revelation. 

_Who knows_ , thought Urahara.  Maybe he has.  He can never tell with him.

“Okay, you’re done.  My turn,” Urahara joked, breaking the trance.

Mayuri’s face snapped back into its usual glare. 

“My goodness, you are ridiculously needy.  Give me a least another five minutes, or if you can’t wait any longer, jack yourself off.  Then we can _both_ sleep in peace!”

But Mayuri was smiling.  Absentmindedly he ran a hand across Urahara’s cheek, stroking his lips with a thumb.  Any and all points of physical contact—from the hand on his face to the knee that had wound up over Urahara’s shoulder—were magical.  Rarer than gold.  It lost Urahara in a space that he wished he would never leave.

At least until he heard the words, “Now honestly, what on earth did you manage to do with the firestarter?  If you can’t hold onto your things, I’ll be forced to use the burner directly.  Which that is fine for me, but _you_ might feel differently.”

“Well all right,” Urahara said.  “But you know, doing it that way…”

Mayuri looked at him with exasperation.  “What.”

Urahara pulled the steel instrument from behind his back and scratched a shower of sparks.  He grinned.  “Well, then it would hardly be considered sterile technique.”

Before Mayuri could say anything more, sarcastic or otherwise, Urahara pulled him into a kiss. 

_Yes, he was twisted_ indeed.


End file.
